Meet Your Dragonborn
by VioletNote
Summary: The Dragonborn has suddenly halted her legendary quests, instead settling into the quiet life of a normal citizen of Skyrim. This lull is broken when a strange Imperial shows up to become her personal, quirky taskmaster.
1. The Roadside

I don't own Skyrim! Bethesda does! Shocker, I know. Required Disclaimers- because all us fans need to know you really aren't the corporate entity producing our entertainment.

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><p>"Hey." The short Imperial girl grinned up at the Dovahkiin.<p>

The sung hero of legends made no response. In fact, the Dovahkiin hadn't so much as twitched from her spot when she discovered the short Imperial had managed to creep up behind her, a trained assassin, on the road.

In broad daylight, no less.

Only briefly had the Dovahkiin stopped to talk to M'aiq, a strange Khajiit who always had something interesting to pass on. When she had bade the Khajiit farewell, she turned around to find an Imperial had suddenly appeared behind her. She was supposed to be a master of shadows.

So how in the name of Talos..?

"What's up?"

The Dragonborn's eyebrows knitted in confusion under Volsung's mask. It was rather odd for townsfolk to actually start a conversation rather than pass small talk. From the look of the girl, she was most likely townsfolk. She carried no weapons, and her simple clothing consisted of a dark blue dress and apron. Add the belt hanging on her hips, holding a few satchels for coin and personal effects, and that was the extent of her inventory. The girl herself wasn't unusual; the dark hair, brown eyes and strong jaw screamed Imperial. True, the Imperial was short for her race, but it was likely the result of mixed heritage, along with her snub nose. After all, the Imperials' famed silver tongues had helped make many of wide-ranging traits.

Actually, wasn't it rather unusual for anyone other than merchants or mercenaries to be traveling in the middle of the civil war? Never mind the dragons flying about. The Dragonborn regarded the Imperial shortly before mentally shrugging and continuing down the road. Cicero had been particularly insistent on fresh sweetrolls.

"Whoa, hey, where ya going?"

The Imperial girl had jogged up to Dragonborn and kept pace with her larger stride.

"You know, I thought you would reply, or nod, or hell, a Fus! Normally you at least _talk_ to people who _start_ the conversation! Kinda means they're important, ya know." She glared.

The Dragonborn stopped in her tracks and turned to face the girl.

"Hello."

She then promptly turned and kept walking, causing the smile on the girl's face to die before it had even finished forming. The Imperial gaped at the retreating armor-clad back before clenching her fists in indignation.

"You stop _right there_ Myrvana!" The Imperial shouted.

That caused the Dragonborn to freeze in her tracks. Slowly, the dark elf turned, fixing the Imperial with her gaze. Behind the mask, her red eyes were suspicious.

"That's right, I know your name, unlike anyone else in this damned province. I also know you're a Dunmer, and a spellsword, and you favor axes and… well, actually, pretty much everything else about you." The Imperial declared, waving her pointer at the armed and armored Dunmer.

"And guess what?" The Imperial belted out the question like a challenge.

The Dunmer refused to humor her.

"You're. Stuck. With me." The Imperial said with a growing smirk.

The Dragonborn rolled her eyes at the notion. As if the Imperial saw it behind the mask, the Imperial frowned, replying,"You should know by now when you've been roped into something."

There was an awkward silence as the Dragonborn decided how to deal with the excitable Imperial, expression twisting into a frown under Volsung.

"...Kid, why don't you go home? You're an incredible investigator; so run home and tell of your _exploits_," The hero dismissed with shooing motions to the Imperial.

"Why don't you have a nice bowl of shut the fuck up?" Was the prompt suggestion.

The Dragonborn's fingers twitched, a slow growl emerging from her throat. How _dare_ this townsperson talk down to her like this?

The Imperial was unfazed and continued in her commanding, Cyrodiilic accent.

"When was the last time you did a quest? Finished a job for the Companions? Fulfilled your duty as Listener? You've been laying on your ass, dammit," came the Imperial reprimand.

The Dunmer struggled to respond.

"You - how do you - what do you mean"-

"I already told you, I know. I know everything."

No longer amused, the Dragonborn determined that an interrogation was in order. She drew her war axe and advanced slowly, fire spell spewing flame in her left hand.

"Oh, decided I'm a threat now?" The Imperial's tone was sour.

"You're lucky you didn't shout in a city, or you'd be dead by now," The Dragonborn threatened.

The Imperial rolled her eyes.

"Don't tell me you're actually making an effort to hide your identity. _Now_? Bit late for that when you went traipsing about Whiterun in Dark Brotherhood armor."

The assassin hesitated, thinking.

"It- I had a mask! Only my eyes were exposed!"

Was that how her cover had been blown? But she was never followed to the sanctuaries and it was so long ago...

"Yeah, and your trademark bright red eyeshadow. Along with your straight, pointy eyebrows. Don't forget those."

The Dovahkiin lifted her glass axe, patience wearing thin.

"If you're such a smartass, you'll know what Dark Brotherhood assassins do to threats."

_Intimidate check: Failed._

"I dare you. I double dare you." The Imperial nodded at a guard coming down the road.

"I triple dog dare you, fetcher." She grinned.

Whirling around, the Dovahkiin cursed seeing the guard; it was time to rethink.

"Well Imperial, I'll make you an offer." The Dunmer sheathed her weapons. "I know important people. You know that. You also know I'm hideously rich from adventuring. What's your price?"

The Imperial, smirking, shook her head.

"You'd slit my throat as soon as I turn my back."

"I'd never break an agreement."

"Says the Dunmer."

"I'm willing to settle this peaceably."

"Says the assassin."

"You know so much about me- you can tell when I'm telling the truth." The assassin pressed. "Take my offer."

_Persuasion check: Failed._

The Imperial gave a small chuckle.

"Sorry Dovahkiin. The only thing I'm interested in is getting you whipped into shape."

The Imperial approached the Dragonborn, stopping an arm's length away.

"Here you are," the Imperial held out both arms wide to the Dunmer, presenting her case, "a prophesied hero, a legend, Harbinger, Listener, thane throughout most of Skyrim, and _what_ are you doing?"

She put one hand one her hip, flinging the other into the air dismissively, scorn written plainly on her face.

"Running domestic tasks. For Go- Talos knows who."

"What's wrong with that?" The Dragonborn's tone made it perfectly clear she thought such tasks were important.

The Imperial's face morphed into one of outraged disbelief.

"Talos, woman, listen to yourself! Lives are at stake! Odhaviing is trapped in Dragonsreach, waiting to take you to _Sovngarde itself_, and here you are, _picking flowers!_"

The small Imperial had taken an aggressive stance, glaring holes into the Dragonborn's mask, hands on her hips, clawing at the fabric in aggravation.

"I- I'm not ready. I can't fight Alduin just yet." Came the surprised reply.

"Don't give me that shit. You're ready, damn you!" The Imperial promptly decreed.

"Look at you," She forcefully gestured at the Dovahkiin, "You're covered in dragon scale armor! You have enough health potions to start a business, and your Restoration skill is through the roof! You're also a freaking demigod with an axe and could qualify as a ninja- so tell me! _Why aren't you on your way to fight the World-Eater!_"

"I need more time"-

A table materialized between the two, which the Imperial promptly flipped over.

"OBLIVION TAKE YOU!"

The Dunmer jumped backwards out of the way as the table gained a weightless three seconds of air time before crashing into the dirty cobblestones. She stared at it silently as it lay in the road.

The Imperial shook her head and started massaging her temples, sighing.

"This is what happens when I let you wander around Skyrim by yourself for too long... God, this is awful. You're practically an NPC, scripted for mundane tasks..."

Myrvana looked up from the table and replied in _that_ tone again:

"What's wrong with what I'm doing?"

The Imperial gave a glare and flung her hand at Myrvana's face, as if throwing something. A large, worn boot immediately materialized high in the air, on a crash course with Volsung.

It hit the Dragonborn square between the eyes just as she looked up.

"I have this theory, that if I hit you enough times on the head, that you'll stop acting like retarded AI, and get into the role of the PC. So far, it only serves to be entertaining." The Imperial folded her arms.

Myrvana had leaned backwards from the force of the boot, then stiffened. The Dunmer giggled insanely in a low tone, as slowly, she reached up to pluck the worn boot and quickly hurled it in the human's direction. The girl leaned her head to the side as the footwear sailed past.

"By Sithis, I should gut you now." The Dragonborn's voice had reached an alarmingly low note, one which reminded the Imperial of the growl of large cats.

The human only seemed amused by the Dragonborn's patience truly snapping.

"...So you _can_ make one-liners! We're already on the right track. Provocation works well, it seems."

"I will provoke the Divines themselves when they witness what I'll do to you."

"Hmm. Heading a bit too far towards the 'Lucien' side of the Dark Brotherhood. Mind, that's where things really start getting emo, and next thing you know, the super Mary-Sues pop up like cockroaches. You know, the chicks that try to set themselves up with everything and everyone," The Imperial rambled, talking with her hands. The pointing, waving and flicking only frustrated the Dunmer further- as though the elf was supposed to_ know_ the nonsense this girl was spewing.

"What in Oblivion _are you talking about_!"

"Oh! I need to get you on track! Lemme see your journal!" The Imperial made fast 'gimmie' gestures, eyes expectant.

"To the Void." Myrvana hissed.

"Don't be like that. Please?"

"I would never lend my private effects to someone I despise."

"Come on," the Imperial pleaded.

"The answer is no. Leave my sight before I gut you; I'd gladly pay the bounty for murdering you, because it _would be worth it_."

The Imperial glared at the immobile Dragonborn like a child being denied.

"Fine."

Still holding eye contact with the Dragonborn, the girl held out her hand.

_Start_

Myrvana's journal materialized in it before the elf's stunned eyes. The Dragonborn did a quick search of her person which revealed that her journal was gone, and most likely, in the human's hand.

"How did you do that? I saw no spells!" The Dunmer accused.

"Because I can," The Imperial answered snidely, a smirk tugging at her mouth, "Now let's keep walking to..." The Imperial quickly flipped through Myrvana's journal.

"Markarth. I am walking to Markarth and if you want to come along, you'd better hand over that journal."

"Says you. I'm almost positive you wouldn't be able to keep me from getting it if I wanted it. In fact, I could just give it back to you, then have it appear in my hand as soon as you put it away."

Myrvana sighed, conceding the point. It would seem that a certain breach of privacy was inevitable. Even if she were to start a new journal, the infuriating Imperial would probably be able to magick that one out of thin air too.

"I will interrogate you once we reach Markarth. If it wasn't for the fact I'm both on a schedule and sick of the road, I would have already dragged you off into the wilderness." Myrvana muttered, trudging down the road.

A look of alarm crossed the Imperial's face.

"Already a homebody... this is turning out to be worse than expected." The girl grimaced, and started flipping through Myrvana's journal furiously.

Myrvana tried to ignore the Imperial's intrusion, on multiple levels, and turned her thoughts to what sort of common flowers she could bring home. She had developed an affinity for the quiet hobby of tending to flowers lately. She wasn't sure where it came from, but she didn't question her content. Which was strange, when she thought about how much more satisfaction she got by being out and about Skyrim. But lately, Myrvana hadn't felt any drive to do any heroic deeds. The Dragonborn watched a butterfly flutter by as though hypnotized.

Behind her back, the Imperial facepalmed.

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><p>Author's Note: Please review and tell me what you think, I'd love to make this a great read for everyone. If you have any ideas that you think would be funny, shoot. :) I had to edit this a few times before I was satisfied not much else could be changed. I try to make this a balance between Skyrim and the modern world, including the humorous plot convenience of a Mary-Sue. You knew there was going to be a <em>little<em> Mary-Sue. Don't hurt me. Or your computer.

Anyway, thank you for reading!


	2. The Road to Markarth

So this is what I call a "travel chapter". Basically, there's no plot in these, and it's all about humor. Mostly it's dialogue and some characterization. Anyway, this chapter references Morrowind. To all my fellow Morrowind players!

Disclaimer: Skyrim and Morrowind are Bethesda's. Also, the part that counts- I make no money off this! Whee!

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><p>"Imperial. Keep up." The Dovahkiin called over her shoulder.<p>

"S'not my fault you're so tall."

"I think the problem is you're too short," the Dunmer snorted.

"Not all of us can be Dunmer," the Imperial defended.

"And not all of us are... somewhere between Breton and Imperial."

Myrvana studied her new follower.

"I've never seen an Imperial as short as you. You have Bosmer blood in you?"

The Imperial looked offended.

"I assure you, my family line has not once boned a _Bosmer_."

"Interesting phrase."

"You're the one with odd phrasings."

"That so?"

"You came originally from Morrowind, before the eruption of Red Mountain. And last I checked, decades of Dunmer culture don't get swept away by some months in Skyrim." The human scoffed.

"You know that too?"

"I know everything about you, dammit, I thought you grasped that."

"I was hoping you were just some kind of stalker my fame picked up."

The Imperial gave a glare.

"Shut up and listen."

Myrvana's fingers twitched toward her axe handle, but obeyed, albeit only under threat of being hunted throughout the hold for the assault of an unarmed civilian. She could see another guard walking down the road already.

"Last I was in Morrowind, natives scornfully referred to me as 'Cyrodiil', rather than Imperial. Secondly, your voice is far too normal for a Dunmer; every last one I talked to back in Morrowind sounded like they were talking around a lungful of ashes."

The Imperial held up a third finger.

"And finally, for whatever reason, I have not heard once, not _once_, a single '_n'wah_'."

"You - excuse me? Just where in Morrowind where you?"

"Vvardenfell."

The Dovahkiin sighed.

"Just keep up."

And with that, the dragon scale-clad Dunmer picked up the pace, leaving the Imperial behind again.

"Hey! Answer me! Why is your voice normal?"

"If you haven't noticed, we're in Skyrim!" Myrvana called back. "The air is clean and noticeably free of ash."

"I speak sarcasm fluently. I demand a better answer." The human shot back, jogging up to the Dragonborn.

"I thought you knew everything about me." The Dragonborn smirked.

"Bollocks. You're getting a brain already."

"...Was that... So have you been lying this whole time, then!"

"That was an observation. And no, I have not. Tell me, Myrvana. Do you know the answer yourself?"

"I..."

"Hmm?"

"I was born... I'm sure- I was sure that... no wait... back in Morrowind..." The Dovahkiin probed two fingers under the edge of Volsung, massaging her temples as her brow furrowed in concentration.

"What... in Oblivion?" The Dunmer muttered.

"Can't put your finger on it? What your background is?"

"Silence, Imperial!" Myrvana ordered.

"I was expecting 'Cyrodiil' or 'n'wah'. Not the term non-natives use." The Imperial was disgustingly amused.

"By Sithis, girl, if I don't have your respect..."

"You'll... what? My Dragonborn, I have nothing but affection for you."

"I will murder you in cold blood if you refer to me in that way again."

"I have every right to refer to you that way."

"And why, why is _that_?"

"Can't tell."

"YOU-"

"Endearing, why yes, I know I am."

The Imperial twirled out of reach of the Dunmer's clawing hand.

"But that is such an annoying way to refer to me- 'girl'." The Imperial frowned.

"I don't know your name."

"That's true. Why haven't you asked?"

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to deal with you this long." The Dragonborn gritted.

The Imperial made a face.

"If I had to guess, something along the lines of 'complete damned annoyance'." The Dovahkiin continued.

"My name is Blaise. And you are a simpleton."

"Share your reasoning. And come closer."

"So you do make jokes!"

"Actually, if we weren't in sight of the guard towers, I would've gutted you by now."

"No you wouldn't have. You're low on soul gems. And all you have are enchanted weapons. You wouldn't waste those charges on me. You'd probably start hurling fireballs though."

"...I hate you."

"I won't scream any secrets that'll blow your cover as the leader of an infamous assassin cult or otherwise, don't worry," Blaise grinned conspiratorially.

"You...!"

The Dragonborn spluttered in anger, unable to harm Blaise in front of the guards that were patrolling just outside the city.

"N'WAH!" The Dragonborn threw up her arms, shouting the insult at Blaise.

Blaise simply grinned.

"If you could just say that after losing your voice, we'd be golden. Ah, nostalgia."

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><p>Author's Note: And that's it for now! I'm still working on the next chapter- me and my obsessive editing. Good news: they'll be arriving in Markarth next chapter, and I get to juggle a third character! Let me know what you think in a review.<p> 


	3. Vlindrel Hall

A/N: Sorry it took me such a long time to update, but real life can be a real demanding bitch. Here is your chapter! Skyrim is owned by Bethesda.

P.S. Minor references to various quests in this chapter. Sort of spoilers, I guess; it's like foreshadowing.

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><p>"So, why are we in Markarth?"<p>

"I thought you'd have figured that out from reading my journal." Myrvana's annoyed tone managed to leak past her mask well.

Blaise leveled a flat stare.

"The last entry was days ago," she replied, waving the worn volume at its author.

Myrvana grumbled in response.

"Another sign of your negligence," Blaise continued.

Myrvana muttered a series of curses that came off as incomprehensible. The diminutive Imperial had managed to get under the Dunmer's skin during the hours it took to Markarth. Accompanied by the sound of turning pages, Blaise had shot accusations of sloth and vacuity at the Dragonborn, as a finger jabbed at a related paragraph to emphasize her damning evidence. The Dragonborn had narrowed her eyes and threw a couple firebolts past the girl's head in warning, but it only bred further provocation. There was further criticism whilst the small Imperial dodged substantially more firebolts like it was choreographed. When Myrvana had run out of magicka, frustrated beyond words, Blaise made a point of bowing with a cocky grin.

The Dragonborn would eventually dismiss the Imperial with a scoff and look of utter contempt, to which the girl would finally leave her be - before starting up again as another significant flaw was found. By the time Myrvana had led them to the walls of Markarth, she was ready to slice the Imperial into tiny pieces in a fashion of pure butchery to rival the attack on Falkreath Sanctuary. To fend off these murderous impulses, she had bought a couple sweetrolls from the tavern in hopes of shutting up her follower, but Blaise had been content with munching on one whilst pointing with Myrvana's journal in the off hand as she acted the part of a Markarth tourist. A disgruntled Myrvana had been left an extra, carrying it absentmindedly as she led the way.

The two made their way up to the residential district of the stone city, Blaise admiring the scenery the whole way. The Dunmer had to grab her to keep her from falling off the high stone steps, though the sweetroll couldn't be saved. Myrvana watched the treat crash onto a guard's helmet, disappointed that Blaise dropped her treat, but amused by the guard's surprise at icing oozing down his helmet. Blaise peered over the edge with Myrvana and chuckled.

"This city is so much better in person - makes me wish I could live here…" Blaise sighed, looking at the Temple of Dibella.

"Sithis forbid," Myrvana muttered.

"What?"

"Something foreign. Dragon attacks are relatively foreign in Markarth. …Guess I can cross the possibility of you being carried off by a frost dragon _off_ my wish list," the dark elf said smoothly, adding a bit of sarcasm for credibility.

The Dunmer quickly resumed her ascension up the stone stairs.

Blaise made a face that could be best described as pouting. She let it go and fell in step with the Dragonborn, replying, "So, by the path we're taking, I assume we're going to your house?"

Myrvana halted, her masked face tilting to the side as she asked, "How do you know where I live?"

"…Seriously? Do you want me to repeat myself for the third time today?"

"…Right. You know everything."

"Damn straight I do."

"Shut up, Imperial," Myrvana ordered, marching back up the stairs.

If dragon priest masks could look thoroughly annoyed, Myrvana just made hers emote it.

"You just jelly." Blaise smirked, continuing up the stairs after Myrvana.

"What in Oblivion does 'jelly' mean?" Myrvana muttered.

"Phrase of mine. Or my generation. Short for jealous."

"Why not just say the word?"

"Hell if I know. But it's fun to say. Jelly. Jeeelly. Jelllyyyyy. _Jeeeellllyyyy_-"

Myrvana twisted around to Blaise impossibly fast, and shoved her sweetroll into the girl's teeth in one move.

"UAAAAHHFFFFFF!" Blaise yelled, mouth crammed and teeth jammed into the sweetroll's soft dough.

She lost her balance, flinging her arms in a windmill position, before regaining it by courtesy of Myrvana yanking her sweetroll back and pulling Blaise along with it. The short Imperial stumbled and caught herself landing on all fours, palms skidding the stone stairs. Some of the sweetroll was still in her mouth.

"Wha… what the HELL WAS THAT FOR?" Blaise shot daggers at the smug Dunmer above her, crumbs flying from her mouth.

Myrvana twirled the bitten sweetroll with her fingers, examining it for a few seconds before deigning to respond.

"It had jelly."

The Dragonborn lowered it to Blaise's face for closer inspection. A small pocket of jelly had been revealed.

"I thought you'd like it." The Dunmer calmly reasoned, then flung the half-eaten sweetroll over her shoulder, into the street below. The Dragonborn then calmly leaned back against the wall, smirking under her mask at the Imperial.

Blaise stared at the calm dark elf, left eye twitching.

Below, a guard cried out in surprise, yelling about icing down his back.

"…You think you're clever do you?" Blaise said, voice low as she pushed herself off the pavement. "Two can play at that game."

_Start_

_ System_

_ Save_

_ New Slot_

_Saving…_

Myrvana frowned.

"What in Oblivion did you do?"

"What? What happened, and why do you assume it's _me_?"

"Because I just got this odd feeling in my gut. Something like… usually it means something bad is going to happen."

"Oh, we going to start using our sixth sense now, determine that the Imperial is an evil, otherworldly sorceress here to ruin the world? Oooooh, I got this gut feeling, you guys! I just know something _bad's_ gonna happen you guys!" Blaise mocked, waving her hands with exaggerated expressions.

"Oh sod off." Myrvana retorted immediately.

"No, but seriously," Blaise gave Myrvana a smirk, "I'm going to seriously fuck up your day for that."

Myrvana's red eyes narrowed under Volsung.

"What, you think a little thing like you can-"

_Inventory_

_ Apparel_

_Dragonscale Armor (Legendary)_

_Unequipped_

Blaise smirked wider. Taking note of how much money Myrvana was carrying, she made a few plans in her head. This was going to be fun. Now, where was that portal to Sanguine? He had the best quests.

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><p><em>Loading…<em>

The Dragonborn blinked.

"… I can't remember what I was doing."

"What do you mean, what you were doing? We're going up the stairs, aren't we?"

The Dragonborn looked down at Blaise, who was calmly dusting off her blue dress.

"… Why aren't you angry at me? I could've sworn that you were just giving me the most death-filled look earlier…"

"I think the lack of air in the mountains is finally getting to you. Now, are we onward to Vlindrel Hall?"

"Yeah, but… wait, did you… why am I suddenly reminded of that drinking contest with Sam Guenevere?" Volsung tilted downward to frown suspiciously at Blaise.

Blaise grew a sunny smile.

"I don't know."

Volsung gave the Imperial a flat stare as the Dragonborn's own red eyes widened.

"You… you know something, don't you. You damned Imperial."

Blaise let the smile twist into a smirk.

"I know everything, my Dragonborn."

"And it's quite alarming…" Myrvana muttered as she trudged onward.

"You know what's alarming? That birthmark on your- EEK!"

Myrvana promptly threw Blaise over her shoulder, ran up the last flight of stairs and kicked in the doors to Vlindrel Hall.

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><p>Just inside the entry hall, the brass positively gleamed, and except for dust that seemed to be standard in Skyrim, the residence appeared to be cleaned quite frequently. Still hanging limply from the Dunmer's shoulder, Blaise tested the surface of a brass pot with her finger, finding it impeccable.<p>

"Your husband is quite good at housekeeping," Blaise noted.

Irked slightly by Blaise's knowledge of her husband, Myrvana ignored it, remembering the look on the Imperial's face when she shoved that sweetroll into her mouth. Oh, how sweet a petty victory could be.

"He's actually good at a lot of things," the Dragonborn replied, pride creeping into her voice.

Slowly, Blaise smirked, and then smirked wider, impishly so. Myrvana caught sight of it in the planter's brass reflection, exclaiming, "Sweet Azura, get your mind off of that!"

Blaise raised her left eyebrow, still smirking, replying simply, "But _is_ he?"

"None of your concern!" Myrvana declared, emphatically shaking her head 'no'.

The corner of Blaise's mouth twisted down into a grimace.

"You're no fun."

"Have we not established that I strongly hate you?"

"I thought that wasn't something you had fully developed yet considering your vacuity of character."

"My vacuity of character? What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You _suck_. I mean _really suck_," Blaise pointed at her reflection, eyes on the Dragonborn's reflection, "Besides the murderous responses I got to my insults and criticisms, you are nothing but a mood-swinging, impulsive, raging psycho-bitch."

"_What_ did you just call me-"

"You under-developed, backwards-evolved Dragonborn!" Blaise shouted over Myrvana.

Myrvana gripped the small Imperial's waist with both hands and shoved her down and off her shoulder, onto the floor. Blaise screeched a string of profanity, employing words the Dragonborn had never heard before. Both were greeted by Argis, who was happily stirring the cooking pot in the main room.

"Welcome home, dear! I didn't expect a visitor." He called out in his low, gravelly voice.

"Fuck me. The housecarl-turned-househusband doth appear." Blaise grumbled to the stone. "Is this the part where you warn me to stay away from your man?"

Myrvana snorted. "Hardly. As if you could interest him," The Dovahkiin folded her arms defensively.

"Well… at least that cliché is out of the way." Blaise concluded, letting her forehead thunk on the floor.

"Cliché? You didn't actually expect me to fall into that stereotype of the jealous wife?" Volsung gazed down at Blaise's curled form with disdain.

"So far, your only characterization is that of being an asshole. And not even a funny one. I expect little."

Myrvana wordlessly grabbed the Imperial's feet by the ankles and started dragging her, feet-first, up the ramp into the main chamber of Vlindrel Hall.

"Man-handling seems to rather ocurrent with you. I don't recall it being one of your characteristics."

"What can I say. You just bring out the best in me."

"Sarcasm? Perhaps I do."

"Darling, who is that? And why are you dragging them across the floor? I just swept." Argis called over his shoulder.

"Love you too, man," Blaise called back.

"Excuse me?" The Nord shot Blaise a confused look.

"The hospitality in Markarth is incredible. Reminds me of the time you got jumped in the shrine of Talos, an' hauled off to Cidhna Mine."

Myrvana laughed for the first time that day.


	4. Makeshift Interrogation

Sorry for taking such a long time to update. But graduating seniors lead busy springs. But you know, I'm free now! And here is my gift to the world, because I love freedom.

I don't own Skyrim or Argis. Myrvana and Blaise I can happily claim.

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><p>Myrvana kneaded her temples and briefly weighed the option of simply killing the Imperial off in the wilderness. Because so far, Blaise had been driving her up the wall.<p>

First, she had decided to find rope to tie up her captive – for whatever reason, she could find none. Anywhere.

'_Where in Oblivion is the damned rope! It's so simple! So simple!' _

Second, as soon as she had left the room, Blaise thought it would be just a _wonderful_ idea to poke Argis on what he knew of his wife. The Dunmer had returned just in time to calm the simmering Nord who was close to punching the short Imperial out cold.

"_So, Argis…" The Imperial stood by the bookcases, absentmindedly starting conversation._

_Argis made no sound or movement to suggest he heard. He kept on stirring his cooking pot._

"_I have to ask- it's been bugging me for a while now. Don't you ever get lonely or bored when your thane goes on all of her adventures and such? Oh, wait, she's also your wife too! All the more reason to ask."_

_Argis remained silent._

"_Well," Blaise smirked, "I'm sure all that time left alone in this house, surrounded by her trophies and treasures, must give you food for thought." So saying, Blaise looked pointedly at the display case and mannequin nearby._

_Argis turned from his cooking, picked up a salt pile and returned to his cooking, back once more to Imperial. _

"_Come on, man. Haven't you ever wondered where she goes? What she does? You have to; I mean, she's thane throughout multiple holds in Skyrim, slays dragons as part of her everyday life – badass much? And then, of course, she travels the length of the province, sorting people's shit out for them. But who knows what else she does? Don't you wonder?"_

_Argis stirred his pot, sniffing its aroma every so often._

_Blaise heaved a sigh._

"_Jesus. The guards are more informed than you are. And they trade gossip and rumors."_

_It was then that a large wooden ladle went flying and hit Blaise on the temple, snapping her head back._

"_OW! Fucksicles!"_

_Blaise staggered, holding a hand to her head. When she regained her footing, the Nord had turned his back on the cooking pot, and was currently staring her down._

"_Imperials have always been good with words. Less often are they able to back them up." He warned._

And thirdly, Blaise wouldn't act like a proper prisoner. Usually prisoners would try three things: escaping, defiance, or stalling. Blaise acted like she was a mistreated houseguest.

"_What do you mean I can't have any?" Blaise whined._

"_What makes you think you can have any of the food Argis prepared?" Myrvana shot back, tone imperious._

"_I thought Nords were proud of their hospitality! Is Skyrim really so hostile to outsiders? I thought that was the Dunmer's specialty." _

_Myrvana had taken off Volsung while she was in the house searching for rope. Her left brow rose imperiously for the girl to see._

"_Is that so?" Myrvana crossed her arms._

"_N'wah." Blaise glared._

_Argis cuffed her upside the head, saying sternly, "Hey! That sort of language isn't permitted in this house."_

"_Ow!" The Imperial cradled the side of her head, body curled reflexively, muttering to herself about concussions._

_Argis returned to doling out the stew he had made earlier. The three were seated around the dinner table like some dysfunctional family; Myrvana on one side, Argis opposite her, and a chair had been moved to a third side for Blaise, which she was sitting in. Naturally it was the side farthest from the door. _

_The short Imperial stared at her plate, which held a cut loaf of bread and an apple. It was clear she didn't approve._

Then again, maybe Myrvana should've just locked her in the tiny bedroom that Argis occasionally used. Glaring at her, daring her to make a run for the door wan't really intimidating the girl. Myrvana _knew_ they should have used rope.

And then came the interrogation.

"_Who do I report to? Are you serious? I feel like I'm in a movie."_

_The Dragonborn sighed deeply, eyebrows furrowed as she held off frustration. She had decided that it was best to conduct the interrogation in the alchemy laboratory, being small and rarely used. It also could be locked. Useful, especially considering she didn't want Argis knowing about certain things in her life. Myrvana had a balanced double life – Argis and the Companions founded her well-known talents, and the Dark Brotherhood for her darker talents. It was a rather nice arrangement, really. _

_She wasn't about to let some eccentric Imperial from Azura-knows-where screw it up._

"_Yes, I'm serious." The Dovahkiin grit._

_Blaise raised one of her eyebrows, smirking. It seemed she was rather amused by the situation. _

'_Well, at least someone here is enjoying themselves,' Myrvana thought._

_Blaise fidgeted on the brick in front of the fireplace, finding a more comfortable spot before answering. The Dunmer was standing in front of her, leaning against the alchemy table with arms crossed._

"_**I…**__ don't work for anyone." Blaise said smugly._

"_Then how do you know so much about me?"_

"_I think I already told you that's secret." Blaise smiled._

_Myrvana scowled._

"_Ooh, you look fearsome... yet still attractive. I knew I did a good job with you."_

"_I- what?" The Dragonborn's face twisted to an advanced expression of annoyed frustration._

"_You know how hard it is for Dunmer to compete with humans in the looks department? Damn hard. You have no idea." Blaise shook her head._

"_Are you saying that you had a hand in my appearance? That's __**ridiculous**__."_

"_You know what else is ridiculous? The amount of daedric artifacts you have. But you have them. Especially ridiculous is that you met Sheogorath in the mind of a dead, insane emperor and obtained the Wabbajack. But you did. Speaking of which, where is it? I want to turn someone into a sweetroll. Just once. Or a bunny. That works too."_

_Myrvana considered that, with her stomach turning uneasily. She eyed the young Imperial, who looked at her searchingly before batting at the dried herbs. If this girl was responsible for her appearance, then… what exactly did that make her? Not her mother, that's for sure._

_Myrvana shuddered quite suddenly. Blaise gave her a look before turning back to paw various ingredients. _

_Wait… maybe some sort of spell? The girl was capable of odd things. Like stealing journals. But that was impossible. Myrvana had been around since before the eruption of Red Mountain, over 200 years ago. Blaise was just an Imperial whelp; she would have to be a vampire to live as long. And Myrvana knew what vampires looked like. Blaise wasn't one._

"_Can I have the Wabbajack?" Blaise asked, jolting Myrvana out of her thoughts._

"_No." The Dragonborn said flatly._

_Blaise sighed. "Worth a shot," she muttered._

_Myrvana gave her prisoner a long look before asking, "Did you have anything to do with my appearance?"_

_Blaise paused from plucking leaves off the dried mirriam and smirked up at the Dunmer._

"_I'm the reason for everything about you."_

Of course, Myrvana being a jaded Dunmer who had been around, was merely offended by the cheeky tone of the Imperial and dismissed the girl's outrageous claims. It went like that for hours, the Imperial never giving any blunt information that would end the game, and Myrvana steadily losing her patience. All she got out of it in the end was that somehow, Blaise knew everything about her.

Maybe she could just leave her with the Forsworn.

* * *

><p>That's it for now! Please review and tell me what you think! Since I am a free senior soon to be freshman again, I am <em>sure<em> that I am _much more_ likely to put up the next chapter faster. :D No, but it will be faster. I swear. xD


	5. A New Morning

A/N First off, let me say that I am awful at deadlines. Utterly. And completely. I pretty much bombed out on my own deadline that I made, saying "Eh, I'll do it later."

I am not a good fanfiction writer. -_-

Anyway, shall I just let you read? I made the chapter super long this time.

* * *

><p>"You know, I think I was wrong about you."<p>

Myrvana blinked and twisted to regard Blaise. The latter had walked up behind her while she was making potions at the lab.

"Oh _Azura_," The dark elf grumbled darkly, "I thought you were in the housecarl's room."

She set her mortar and pestle harshly on the alchemy lab and turned to face her escaped prisoner, elbows resting on the lab.

Blaise beamed.

"I picked the lock." She piped brightly.

Myrvana let her head fall back heavily and sighed.

"What can I say? Lockpicks just lie around everywhere." The girl shrugged.

"Am I going to have to lock you up in a prison guarded by sabre cats?" Myrvana wondered. "Because that was a rather high-level lock."

"Oh psshh." The Imperial waved her hand at Myrvana dismissively. "It's just a little mini-game."

"A new word. Joy floods my heart."

"And off you go, again, sarcasm bursting through the floodgates."

Argis knocked on the doorway before sticking his head in, calmly stating, "If this is the part where you two take turns being asses to each other, can you do it quietly? I'm trying to read."

Just like that, he retracted his head and walked away. Myrvana and Blaise stared at the spot where his head was.

"I hate yo-" Myrvana snapped.

"I know." Blaise cut her off, shrugging.

Myrvana threw up her hands and returned to her potions.

"But anyway, about Odahviing…" Blaise started.

"Oh no. We are not talking about this." Myrvana chuckled.

"But-"

"NO."

"The world-"

"I don't want to hear it!"

"Your destiny-!"

"ERNGH!"

"Wait what the hell even wa-?"

"AGHHLADADADA!" Myrvana shouted over Blaise, wagging her finger.

"OH, COME ON!" Blaise shouted back, swinging her arms from her head out to the Dragonborn.

"I AM NOT COMING ON!" The Dunmer replied just as forcefully.

"YOU HAVE A DESTINY, WOMAN!"

"AND IT'S MY OWN, YOU PIGHEADED IMPERIAL!"

"THAT DOESN'T ABSOLVE YOU OF YOUR DUTY!"

"STOP SCREAMING AT ME, YOU STUPID CHILD! WHAT COULD YOU KNOW OF DESTINY!?"

In the next room, Argis put his book down on his lap and sighed. He thunked the book down on the side table and got up from his chair half-heartedly, not really believing that this was something he had to do.

"YOU CAN'T JUST IGNORE-"

"WHO SAYS I'M IGNORING ANYTHING!?"

Blaise whipped her hand out and Myrvana's journal appeared in its grasp. She waved the worn book at Myrvana furiously.

"THIS DOES!"

"Wha- WOULD YOU STOP DOING THAT!"

"NEVER!" Blaise declared, lifting the journal above her.

Argis stomped in and lifted Blaise up by the scruff of her collar, surprising both out of their argument.

"AH! Let me down, Argis!" Blaise kicked the air, twisting in his grip.

The Nord regarded the kicking Imperial with mild interest and turned his attention to his thane.

"We need to talk."

* * *

><p>-2 HOUR TIME SKIP OF MYRVANA BULLSHITTING ARGIS-<p>

"So you're saying that this little Imperial has secrets about the Companions? And she endangers you by extension?"

"That's the tip of the iceberg, buddy." Blaise blew an errant lock of hair out of her eyes, dangling limply from the man's grip on her shirt collar.

"SHH!" The Dragonborn hissed, with no small amount of malice.

"Well you're a dirty liar!" Blaise shot back.

"Seems to me you should have her swear that she won't say a thing. Take her to the Companions in Whiterun, maybe? They can keep an eye on her." Argis suggested, pointedly ignoring Blaise.

"Now why just kill all the delicious twists of"-

"SHHH!" The Dunmer hissed again.

"Well either way, you should make sure she doesn't tell anyone what she knows. The Companions are important to Skyrim. But, darling, while you're in Whiterun…"

Argis gave his wife a concerned look, eyebrows knitted and the corners of his mouth turned down slightly as he said:

"You should really see about that dragon they trapped in Jorrvaskr. Apparently it's been asking to talk with you."

Blaise threw her head back and cackled loudly as the Dovahkiin narrowed her red eyes.

"Maybe it can help you fulfill your destiny of killing Alduin," Argis continued.

Blaise laughed harder, with almost no sound coming out of her mouth. Myrvana sneered at the girl and leaned forward to swat her.

"Now, while I know you're nervous about facing the World-Eater," Argis said carefully, giving Blaise an odd look, "Know that your prowess in battle is incredible. I've been in enough dungeons with you to know who takes care of who- I would've been dead ten times over if not for you."

"I already tried telling her that. But the stubborn elf refused to listen to word I said." Blaise interjected.

Myrvana swatted her again.

"Take this girl to Whiterun," Argis lifted Blaise slightly, "And then should you decide to speak to the dragon they captured, you'll be closer to your destiny."

Argis then released Blaise, who landed gracelessly on her feet. He walked up to Myrvana, and putting both hands on her shoulders, leaned his forehead against his wife's. "I know you'll come back. You'll come back home."

Argis' soft blue gaze coaxed a smile out of Myrvana, who looked back with equal warmth in her eyes and promised: "Of course I will. So long as you're here."

Blaise stared incredulously at the two, wondering where the hell the lovey-dovey came from.

That brought a smile to Argis' face, and it lit his features as he gazed into his wife's red eyes.

"I'll prepare food for the ride there." He murmured.

He slipped out of his wife's hold, and with a peck on the cheek, left the room. Myrvana sighed happily. Then she felt Blaise's stare. She whirled to find the Imperial utterly dumbfounded.

"…What?" The Dragonborn demanded.

"I think my jaw just landed somewhere in Blackreach."

"We're a married couple. We're allowed these sorts of things." The Dunmer said with crossed arms.

"You ever return that sort of full-disclosure? I'm honestly surprised you maintain such a loving relationship." Blaise said critically, crossing her arms. "Oh wait- that's right, you're a master of persuasion. 'I've heard about you and your honeyed words.'" The Imperial snarked in a poor imitation of a guard's accent.

Blaise turned to face the wall, a finger tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"I can only imagine the amusement of the Night Mother." She shook her head. "Though it is convenient, being both husband and housecarl - I bet that's why. You're all about control, Myrvana. It's possible in the time I left you alone you managed to change, but it's not like you can ignore destiny and responsibilities to your factions." Blaise snorted.

She turned around to face Myrvana.

"We're going to Dawnstar-"

CRASH

Stars swam in the Imperial's vision as she stumbled sideways, seeing only the blurry outline of the Dunmer and jagged fragments of pottery flying through the air. No, they weren't flying, they were falling. Just like her.

THUMP

The Dragonborn's boots were still, then walked out of the room, out of view.

"What was that crash?!" Argis' gravelly voice carried through to the Imperial's ears.

Myrvana's voice replied, but it was little more than mumbling. Sight and sound began to lose focus. Against her will, Blaise slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>Wagon wheels clattering along the road. The wind whistling between the peaks. A horse whickered. Slowly, Blaise opened her eyes, and saw her booted feet upon the wooden planks of a wagon floor. She winced, noting her neck had suddenly become painfully sore. Cautiously, she raised her head, trying to sit up straight.<p>

"Not. A. Word." Came the low hiss.

The corners of Blaise's mouth shot down. She knew that tone.

"Troublesome little runt. Not only do you barge into my life, demanding I do what you say, but you would tear apart the fragile peace I've made."

'Is that what Argis is all about? Has she been trying to live a normal life?' Blaise thought as she stared down at her boots.

"We could've gone to the Companions, but then you had the gall to let my associations with the Brotherhood let slip. In my home, only a room away from Argis."  
>'Surely that can't be it.' Blaise narrowed her eyes at the planks. 'I've teased her about the Dark Brotherhood several times.'<p>

"I'm going to take care of you once and for all. You want Dawnstar? You got Dawnstar. I'm sure the recruits can have fun learning torture with you."

'Wait… so we're actually going to the Dark Brotherhood?'

"And this way, no one will ever know."

That's when Blaise heard it. The familiar drum roll of when a quest had started. Her head jerked back, thinking she must have imagined it.

STARTED QUEST: A NEW MORNING

The words appeared in her vision, stretching to overlay her entire field of view. After a beat, the letters vanished one after the other, as though wiped away.

Blaise's jaw dropped.

"Holy shit," she breathed.

'Did… did I just… start a new quest?' The Imperial gazed in wonderment at the floor.

"Is she awake back there?" A man's voice broke Blaise's reverie.

"She just woke up. But she's feeling the after effects now, so I wouldn't really count it as such," Myrvana suddenly replied, voice full of humor.

"Ah," The driver chuckled in understanding. "Well, we're almost there. A couple more hours and we'll be at Dawnstar." With a flick of the reins, their driver resumed his focus on the road.

Myrvana leaned to hiss in Blaise's ear, "I don't want another word out of you."

Blaise turned to fully regard the Dragonborn, tired of having her hiss in her ear.

"Wha-"

Myrvana unleashed a spell she had been holding, which the Imperial saw glowing in her hand a second before it was unleashed. As green light snaked up her, Blaise felt her lips grow numb. She tentatively tried to part them, but the ability to open her mouth simply ceased to exist.

'Silence? She used Silence on me?!' Blaise's eyes grew wide in shock. Her hands shot to her mouth, and started delicately prodding the flesh around her mouth. She could still feel everything, but her mouth just wouldn't-

Her eyes shot up to regard the Dunmer. She was wearing her usual enchanted dragonscale armor, with Volsung masking her face. Her arms were crossed as she was leaning casually against the wagon seat and Blaise could just imagine the victorious grin that was slowly spreading across the Dragonborn's face.

'Fine. If that's how she wants to play it, fine.' Blaise scowled.

She prepared to enter the Dragonborn's inventory, planning to take off her mask and armor.

B

And Blaise regarded her own inventory.

She blinked.

What?

B

The menu to her inventory disappeared.

B

Her inventory again.

WHAT?

She regarded the contents. The outfit she was wearing, a few lockpicks she found in Argis' room, and the wedge of cheese she kept as a snack. No dragonscale armor, no Volsung, no weapons, no potions, no valuables- Myrvana's inventory was inaccessible to her.

'WHAT THE SHIT.'

* * *

><p>AN I hope that this entertained you, and that my horrible updating skills didn't piss you off. Anyway, I have to think of how exactly to tell y'all what's happening to Blaise. And weave in more freaky character glitches. Cuz that stuff is fun. :D


	6. Once More, With Feeling

A/N So Happy New Year's, you guys! Here's my present, since you know, I submitted it on New Year's Eve. No? It doesn't work like that? Well, either way, I have to admit that thinking this up was hard, and took longer than it should have. But you know, these things take time. I'm not that great of a writer, so I can't churn out these awesome stories like it ain't no thang.

Also- I should mention. If you know anything about programming or how games actually work, please turn off your brain. This is pretty much as fiction-y as it gets.

Bethesda owns Skyrim. Yup.

* * *

><p><em>"FORCE QUIT."<em>

Blaise flinched as her surroundings suddenly flashed a pure white, before the familiar pristine glow of screens slowly faded into focus. Taking a deep breath, she spun and kicked the glowing panel on her left, sending it swinging out to another room.

"ALEEEEX!" she roared.

A young man jumped, his head whipping from the computer screen in front of him.

"Blaise!" He cried, shocked.

Blaise folded her arms and leaned against glowing panel-door, lifting a foot to rest on the screen.

Alex winced at the rough treatment to his immersion room.

"What. Is. Going. On." The brunette's words were low and laced with contained anger.

Alex winced again, looking back at the computer screen on his desk. Alex was a 24-year-old, with short hair, and had a bit of a lanky build thanks to a unique ratio of muscle to height. His features were angular, with an aquiline nose. He could be called handsome, mainly by the saving grace of his green eyes. Unfortunately, his personality was that of a pushover, and as such, he was the beta of Blaise's alpha.

Despite him being a head taller than her.

Alex drew in a breath, hating what he was about to say. "It would appear that the game's AI is... er... adapting?"

Blaise, back-lit by the glowing panel, slowly swiveled her head to face Alex dead-on. Her expression was impossible to see in the dark room, as it was lit only by the glow of the screens around them. Alex frowned worriedly.

"Um... that is to say... the translation of this really old game to our newer technology is being 'helped' along", Alex made sure to use air quotes, "by the immersion room's AI. I think... that what it's doing is since we decided to have you become an actual character in the game, the AI has made you the new PC. And so now, Myrvana has become an NPC..." Alex folded his arms, looking off to the side. "Oh boy," He muttered.

"Alex?" Blaise said curtly.

"Yeah...?"

"Just WHAT did the mod for realistic conversation do?"

Alex raised a folded hand to his lips in contemplation.

"The AI integrated countless data files to recreate a world that would interact with you accordingly. The AI might've decided at some point that since conversation with characters was being updated to accommodate your actions, it was only natural actions would too, which led to, um... the core, the gameplay, being updated. Skyrim is looking more and more like a game from our time."

"What!? There is no way- the AI! It couldn't have done all that by itself!" Blaise sputtered.

Alex shifted uncomfortably. "Well..."

Blaise narrowed her eyes at him. He could feel it.

"What is it, Alex?"

"I, well, might've added... a few extra mods... while you were in there?"

"What did you add." Blaise growled.

"I added a mod for realistic behavior that someone modeled after the Sim games, which affects both NPCs and animals, which would help pad the conversation mod. It was big enough to be separated into a two part download! And then-"

"So it WAS YOU!" Blaise pointed accusingly at him.

"No! It was a mod specifically complementing the conversation mod! The AI must've been what determined you as the the PC, probably due to the amount of new files centering around your actions in the game. I bet that it's also due to how the AI is used to working- Skyrim is looking more like our games, right? With the mods already forming the game into a different beast, the AI's probably taken it another level, in order to better adhere to the new data." Alex turned back to the computer monitor, a floating length of glass protruding from the wall, his hands touching the glowing screen and flipping through the files.

"From the looks of it, we're only a big mod or two away from a copy of our games, albeit an older one. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the AI started to shift the level-up to your character, instead of Myrvana. You're the focus now, at least as far as the game's concerned."

Alex tilted his head back to Blaise, who had lowered her hand, and was stiffly standing with her arms crossed. "Looks like our fun little experiment to mess with your Dragonborn kinda backfired, didn't it?" He sighed.

"Yeah. Looks like." Blaise muttered. "...Wait. You were about to say something after the behavior mod. What else did you add?"

"Huh?" Alex asked.

"What else did you add?"

"I don't know what you mean." His voice rose.

"_Alex_. Don't play with me."

"OK, OK, I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. I added a couple minor things, one of which was a personality mod. It's supposed to streamline the response process for characters. It also helps keep them consistent and lifelike. And the other was a... I guess you could call it a pseudo-relationship mod. It has characters remember how you treat them, so they act accordingly when you meet them again. Really, everything I added was to make your interactions with characters more lifelike. You know, for Myrvana. Before I knew the AI would... yeah."

Blaise sighed deeply and slumped against the panel.

"So you're saying that this is mostly the AI's fault."

Alex paused.

"Yeah, I suppose what I did started the process. So I'm partly to blame. But you wanted the conversation mod too. We're both a little guilty."

Blaise glared at the wall.

"How much of gameplay will be changed?"

"I really can't tell. The AI's making changes as we go."

The short brunette threw up her hands.  
>"Great."<p>

Alex paused again, staring at the screen.  
>"...What now?"<p>

Blaise mulled over that, chewing her lip. The game's been changed, now. The original plan, to try interacting with the Dragonborn, completing quests through a third party's influence instead of direct control, was still essentially the same. But the comfortable amount of control she was still supposed to exert was being taken away.

This funny little idea had blown up in their faces- the end result was a fully controllable PC becoming utterly autonomous. Blaise scowled deeply as she remembered her interactions with her Dragonborn. Christ, her PC was impossible! The idea of losing her control over an already stubborn-as-a-mule character, integral to her goal, no less, turned her mouth bitter.

There was no way she could work with that, much less find entertainment in it. Especially if the witch wasn't averse to knocking her over the head with pottery.  
>No, the way things stood, the project would have to be abandoned entirely.<p>

"Alex, I think we'll have to give up. The way things are now, we can't get this to work. The game itself is practically working against us." Blaise scowled.

"I figured you would say that," He sighed in response. "Can't we just take out the mods then, and see what happens?"

"No!" Blaise exclaimed. "Don't you remember that we agreed doing that would make the game impossible to play? If we're restricted to only _the most basic of interactions_, then essentially I'm restricted to being _either_ the new PC, level one and all, which is _ridiculous_ as I don't have dragon shouts, or I become a _silent pseudo-follower._" She explained vehemently.

"Right..." Alex shook his head. "So it's the same deal, but worse."

"Pretty much," Blaise assented, relaxing against the panel.

"Man," Alex chuckled, "we really can't win here, can we?"

Blaise gave a short laugh as well.

"Tell me about it. We'd have to, like, cheat the game."

"Yeah," Alex laughed.

Both paused and looked at each other.

Blaise quickly shifted to stand on her own two feet and pointed at Alex.

"I want you working on cheat codes for me while I'm in there. I'm talking _godmode_. I'm talking _Moses-parting-the-Red-Sea _godmode_._ And find some codes for raising skill levels. Just in case."

"Yes ma'am." Alex saluted, and brought up a screen with the Skyrim logo on it. "Ready to go when you are."

"I am now," She replied, already stepping into white glowing room. "And while you're at it, see if you can't do something about Myrvana. I swear her personality is more frustrating than it should be. Just where did the game decide to pluck her personality from?" Blaise wondered as she closed the door.

Alex raised his eyebrows. He turned back to the start menu which was waiting for his input.

"Where indeed," he chuckled.

He pressed start.


	7. Inside the Housecarl's Room

A/N: I'm really sorry about the amount of time it's been since I last updated this story. But I feel as a freshman in art school, I've had more than enough on my plate. I suppose I should've given a heads-up, but you know, college. Anyway, I made sure to keep things consistent and somewhat believable. If I'm taking a while, it's not only because of life- I've probably written myself into a conundrum and I don't want to take the cheap way out by making an obvious plot device out of nowhere.  
>But enjoy this chapter! It'll probably be while until the next one.<p>

* * *

><p>There was a familiar hum and whir as the screens of the immersion room glowed a blinding white. Blaise grumbled, fumbling with the last strap of the sensory equipment as she squeezed her eyes shut. There was a cute, high-pitched ping and Alex's voice, filtered through a speaker, came in.<p>

"Ok, Blaise, you can open your eyes."

Blaise cautiously cracked open an eye. Seeing a paused view of the inside of the housecarl's room in Vlindrel Hall, she opened both. This was probably the autosave before she "slept".

"You know, it wouldn't kill the developers to lessen the glow on this. Can't you do anything about it?" Blaise crossed her arms, slowly turning in place to make sure all the screens were working properly for a 360-degree view.

Looked like it. The screens made seamless transitions into each other, making an uninterrupted recreation of sight itself.

'Good,' Blaise nodded. The immersion room was working excellently, and she had to admire Alex's skill with its upkeep and upgrades - though she would never say it to his face. He boasted enough about it already.

"I wish I could, believe me. Ah."

Blaise heard another cute ping.

"Here you go, a virtual controller from the olden days."  
>A familiar, white, rounded controller appeared before Blaise, hovering at chest level.<br>"The computer says all your gear is running and in sync. You should be able to interact with it."

Blaise took it in her hands, flexing her fingers around the grip.  
>"You know, it's still a little weird using this. I mean, it's so clunky. It's hard to imagine people thought immersion was possible with… <em>this<em>." Blaise rolled the controller, turning her wrists. It looked a little awkward. And out of place, considering her surroundings.

"Heh. Well, until I find something else for the interface, it'll have to do."

"Yeah, if I've been dealing with this backwards technology this long, I suppose I can keep it up."

"That's the spirit!" Alex grinned, a burst of enthusiasm coloring his words.

Blaise resisted the urge to roll her eyes and gave a sideways look at the wall.

"I saw that," Alex sniffed.

Blaise mocked an expression of utter astonishment.

Alex frowned at the screen.

"Oh, get on with it."

"My pleasure."

Blaise whirled in place, pressing the start button with a flourish. Alex grumbled incoherently as he paused the in-game communication between them.

"She always has to do that."/

The menu ceased to be, and Blaise was once again treated to the sight of a locked door. Right- this was when she had been shoved in the housecarl's tiny room after turning Myrvana nearly batty. Blaise stifled a giggle; just remembering her Dragonborn's face was hilarious by itself. She'd probably waste several minutes laughing if she cared to recount the entire "interrogation", so she set about looking for a lockpick.

"Was it in the side table? Nope." Blaise tapped the A button quickly, turning to align the crosshair overlaying her vision over furniture.

"This here barrel? Uh-uh. Maybe the… no, no, not the sack. This sack? No. Maybe this one? Nope."

"What are you mumbling in there?" Myrvana's irate voice assaulted Blaise's ears.

Blaise whipped her head to the wooden door and gave it a scorching glare.

"I'm composing a song to your pointy ears. Go away."

A controlled intake and release of breath barely reached Blaise's ears.

"You are quite possibly one of the most impossible beings to cross my path."

"Considering who I'm talking to," Blaise turned to address the contents of a sack. It was empty. Hmph. Where was that damn lockpick? "I'll take that as a compliment."

"I can't imagine how you've survived Skyrim to your age," Myrvana muttered, receding footsteps following her voice.

"Tch," Blaise curled her lip. "I'M the reason you're even-"

She glared at the door.

"…Whatever," She whipped her head.

Alex pushed a rolling chair to the computer. Might as well get comfortable, Blaise was doing her own thing. In fact, maybe he should go make himself something to eat. It was three in the afternoon now and the last time he ate, it was a single bagel with cream cheese, at eight in the morning. Maybe he could go and cook spaghetti or something- well, if Blaise was occupied long enough. Alex crossed his arms, leaning bodily on the chair's back.

Technically, Blaise had the option of quitting and exiting the game, and could exit the immersion room herself. It wasn't like there were safety concerns here. He observed the POV screen that displayed what Blaise was seeing and hearing. Could he? As unproductive as it was, he had to admit to himself that Blaise being a general asshole to Myrvana was amusing enough.

His stomach rumbled uncomfortably.

Well, never mind then.

A cute ping surprised Blaise as she was examining the sacks under the bed.

"Blaise, I'm gonna go make lunch. I'm thinking spaghetti, since we still have that jar of vodka sauce in the fridge. Sound good?"

Blaise grinned, straightening up from her hunch.

"Damn straight! You know I love that sauce! Let me know when you're done cooking, alright?"  
>"Sure thing," Alex shrugged.<p>

He turned to leave but a ping sounded from the computer.

"Oh, but Alex, hold on a sec, I want to check something."

Myrvana shook her head. The Imperial was talking to herself again; maybe Sheogorath was meddling in her life, and the girl was a follower of his. She'd heard stories that hundreds of years ago, around the time of the Oblivion Crisis, the Madgod had quite a bit of fun. Reaching the bookcases clustered near the alchemy lab, her pointer finger skimmed the spines of the many books she collected. From bandit caves, noble houses and ancient temples, she had amassed a library worth a small fortune. She always felt a small surge of pride when she laid eyes on all the stacked books, many worth a considerable amount of septims.  
>"A-ha. Here we are." Myrvana carefully hooked a finger round the spine, delicately tugging the volume free of its brethren.<br>"Not exactly much in here, but it'll do. Let me see… Sheogorath invents music? No, useless… hmm. Maybe a book on the Daedric Princes…"

Myrvana placed the book back where it was, and perused her small library for another, fingers tapping the wooden shelves absentmindedly. Her red eyes flitted from one place to another, her keen sight picking out titles as quick-

THUNKK

Her head snapped back violently, the sudden impact on her brow leaving her stunned. She registered the slap of hard leather, as she dully heard a softer thunk behind her, sounding much like a old shoe.

From Argis' old room, Blaise's voice reached the elf.

"YES! THE MOD STILL WORKS! HAHAH! Oh, there is a god, his name is Alex."

There are no words for how utterly and completely Myrvana saw red.

Argis had returned from his daily shopping trip to the market, arms full with bread, fruit and a bit of fresh beef. He was in a rather good mood- the weather was warm today, and he had gotten a new recipe the other night out of a guard who used to live in Whiterun. He was eager to try it out; he was starting to get tired of eating the same half dozen dishes. Managing to edge himself sideways through the heavy double doors with his groceries, Argis started up the walkway, greeting already on his lips.

"Dear, I bought some things that I can-"

"FETCHING N'WAH!"

Argis reeled back, words dying in his mouth as Blaise's answering, triumphant laughter echoed in the stone residence.

"I'LL RIP YOUR TONGUE OUT OF YOUR HEAD, IMPERIAL! EVEN IF I HAVE TO BREAK THROUGH YOUR _TEETH_!"

"I'VE FOUGHT _MUDCRABS_ MORE FEARSOME THAN YOU!"

Argis lingered in the entrance, wondering how on Nirn the household managed to devolve into such chaos.

BAM BAM BAM

The Nord took a few tentative steps forward into the home, and leaned to the side so he could peek into the next room, where the entrance to his old room was.

BAM BAM

Panting, Myrvana slumped against the heavy reinforced door, shoulder still pressed to the wood. Her eyes burned with the self-assured vitriol only a Dunmer could muster. Argis knew that look, had seen it during battle. That rage that burned strength and conviction into her was probably why she thought, and was attempting to break down a reinforced door, without armor. He slowly leaned back and walked to the main table, putting the groceries down; they wouldn't survive if he stepped in with them. Sighing, he walked back out to the large doorway connecting the main room with the bedrooms, in view of his wife.

"…Dear?" He asked tentatively.

Alex couldn't stop laughing.

"Hahaha! Ah, classic. Oh! Oh! Tell her that she's got a snarl that would put off a Daedroth!" He said, leaning towards the microphone gleefully.

"Gotcha," Blaise saluted the ceiling, grinning widely.  
>"HAS ANYONE EVER TOLD YOU THAT YOU'VE GOT A SNARL THAT WOULD PUT OFF A DAEDROTH!"<br>Both gamers burst out laughing, as a rewarding "DAMNED GIRL" from Myrvana resounded from the other side of the wooden door.  
>"We are such brats," Alex chuckled.<p>

"This will get nothing done for the main quest, but you know, it's worth it," Blaise smiled.

"So worth it," Alex agreed.


	8. From Behind A Closed Door

A/N Yayyy, I wrote it! I can't believe how that happened, actually. I don't even know what I was doing in this chapter. It just sort of happened. /shrug

Anyway, I'm glad I have readers who like the nonsensical things I try to write. You guys make me happy. As for anon who asked if there are other stories with real life meets skyrim: None that I'm aware of, though it's very possible that they exist. They might be overshadowed by the amazing, hardcore lore-friendly/lore-twisting AU stories. There is a Mary-Sue parody I would highly recommend you read, though it is based on Oblivion. It's called Anyone Can Listen; now remember that, and read it. Preferably after you read this. :D

* * *

><p>Argis had managed to get Myrvana away from the door and tell him what had happened while he was out. Myrvana was heatedly explaining, with no small amount of conviction and hand gestures, how Blaise was the root cause of all mischief and misery.<p>

"So the fetching Imperial ducked back in the room, locked the door and barred it, as near as I can tell, as I've already picked the lock!"

"MAAAAWWWWWWDSSSS~" Blaise sang from behind the door.

"…What?" Argis frowned at the door.

"She's been saying that all morning." Myrvana waved a hand dismissively. "Whenever something happens out of the blue, that's what she says. Mods. Mawds. _Akatosh_, I don't _know_."

"Did she say anything else?"

"Oh, something about an Alex, that he's a god or something. Honestly, Argis, it's nonsense. I'm practically convinced I've brought a follower of Sheogorath home." Myrvana sighed, head falling back.

Argis hadn't seen her this worked up since she escaped Cidnha Mine and vented to him about the corruption in the city. She liked repeating how a certain Forsworn agent she had to "deal" with had the beakiest nose she delighted in breaking. With her axe.

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with Sheogorath! Dude's awesome!" Blaise's muffled protests raised two sets of brows.

"Is that so," Myrvana snorted, head swiveling to face the battered wooden door.

"Yeah! You've met the guy, come on! He has an awesome accent. Best quests too. Oh yeah!" A dull thud punctuated Blaise's words, "Gimme Wabbajack already, would ya?"

"Absolutely not." Myrvana pronounced, red eyes flashing.

There was a brief silence of almost tangible disappointment. Argis could just see the Imperial pouting fiercely. Still…

"…_Have_ you met Sheogorath?" Argis' genuine curiousity colored his tone and made his gruff, gravelly voice almost cute.

Myrvana twisted her mouth in discomfort. "Well"-

"YEEESSSS!" Blaise shouted obnoxiously.

Without thinking Myrvana readied a fireball in her right hand and hurled it across the room at the door, the resulting explosion sending a faint tremor through half the neighborhood. The sparks threatened to catch the tablecloth.

"HEY!" Argis barked, dashing to the table, his hand cautiously hovering over the cloth.

Myrvana simply grinned wolfishly, still hearing Blaise's shriek. She didn't even mind she used up a considerable amount of her magicka.

"Crazy bitch!" Blaise drunkenly staggered back towards the small bed, right hand still over her ear. "If I had a health bar, it would be damaged right now!"

_Ping_

"Well, it comes with the territory," Alex pointed out. "Things wouldn't be interesting without threat of bloody and violent virtual death."

"I guess so," Blaise grumbled. She shook her head, wanting the sensory equipment to cut out the simulated ringing and heat on the right side of her face.

"But man, the doors in this game are indestructible barriers. You'd think that one of the reality mods would've taken care of that."

Blaise frowned at the ceiling. "Probably because of things like this."

"Hey…" The process of dawning realization worked its magic in Alex's head.

"If you have an inventory, how come you don't have a health bar? Doesn't every NPC have one?"

Blaise pursed her lips.

"…You're right. What the hell? Has the AI just not decided what to do about me yet?"

"Fuck if I know. We should probably post a thread about this in a forum and ask other people about it."

"I thought these mods were designed for this?"

"Well before now, pretty much anyone who did use them stepped into the role of Dragonborn. I think we're the first ones to use them to become a third-party PC."

"…Fuck. Seriously?"

"Yah."

"Goddammit. Time to post a new thread. Work your geek magic Alex."

"You're jealous of how popular I am online? Oh, that's _cute_."

"Oh _shut up_, Alex."

The couple had settled in the far corner of the room, sharing a bottle of mead and one of the fresh loaves Argis had bought. The fire crackled and combated the drafts of the old stone building, as well as keeping an extra loaf of bread warm and golden. Myrvana lounged against the dusty stone ledge, making sure to keep the door in sight as she sidled close to the source of warmth. Argis reclined in one of the old wooden chairs at the table, pulled up to be in conversational range. Both held a tankard half full of mead, the firelight glowing on the iron rims.

"…So then everything vanished, and I'm left in the dusty old wing of the Blue Palace, Wabbajack in hand, feeling slightly bewildered, and frightening the daylights out of Lydia," Myrvana finished, then took a swig from her tankard.

"The short version made no sense," Argis grumbled.

"Well, the long version wouldn't clear up much," Myrvana rolled her shoulders, "But it would make abundantly clear how little say I had in the matter."

"I suppose that's the way of most Daedric Princes."

"It's essentially a 'take it or leave it' scenario," Myrvana nodded, staring deeply into her drink.

"So what would happen if you decided to leave it? Sheogorath's offer, I mean."

Blinking, Myrvana swiveled her head from her tankard to Argis, giving him a look.

"Refusing… _Sheogorath_."

Argis shifted uncomfortably in the chair, averting his blue eye for a moment, the wood creaking underneath him.

"Well… I'm not the one who met him. Or any of the other Daedric Princes. I can imagine what it might be like, but…" He trailed off, shrugging. "You tell me."

Myrvana frowned, looked pointedly at her tankard, and took another long swig.

"That bad?"

The dark elf casually swung her mug down hard on the stone ledge, clattering loudly, a satisfied "Aah," emerging from her throat. Gazing down at her drink like it was under trial, she pronounced, "Moreso."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Argis offered.

"Damn straight I want to talk about it. I want to tell you about it, but-" The Dunmer extended her pointer at the Nord, whipping her head to face him with sudden conviction.

"There are things in Skyrim no mortal has seen in centuries, and-"

She switched arms, lowering her pointer and shoving her tankard in Argis' face. He jerked back out of reflex, and she grinned.

"I am not _nearly_ drunk enough to recount them to you."

Argis looked from the mug to Myrvana, and seeing the playful tilt in her head, chuckled.  
>"I guess it's time to break out the good stuff."<p>

It had already been half an hour, and Blaise was already regretting the real-time mod. Aside from the faint mumblings of Myrvana recounting her Daedric misadventure and Argis' commentary here and there, there was nothing to occupy her as she paced inside the housecarl's room. All she could do was ask for updates on the thread. It had been another five minutes. Guess she could ask again.

"So what's the progress out there?"

Alex rubbed the bridge of his nose, which meant he was going to have a headache soon. He reached over and pressed a green button to reestablish the open mic.

_Ping_

"Most of it is wonder at the situation and insults on our intelligence."

"…Fucking hell, Alex. I hate people sometimes," Came the disgruntled reply.

Alex grunted in response, leaning back into the chair.

"Why don't you go make the spaghetti. I'll wait here and keep tabs on the drunken retelling of how a Dunmer ran around a dead emperor's mind."

Alex snorted, a smile partly formed on his face. "You sure? You won't be able to stay updated on the thread in there."

"Weeellll, I was thinking of sneaking out and wandering Markarth myself, see if I can't procure something for what promises to be a drunken revelry of Nord and dark elf ." Blaise thoughtfully tapped her chin.

"Sneak out? Isn't Myrvana a master thief?" Alex crossed his arms, reclining in the swivel chair.

"Eh, I'll figure something out. I can just save and reload anyway."

"I've _noticed_." Alex's mouth twitched at the corner, eyebrow quirking. "I'm pretty sure we both started yelling when Sanguine got Myrvana to"-

"HOLY SHIT don'tbringitup!" Blaise hurriedly exclaimed.

"As I recall, even _your_ jaw dropped. Did you even design that birthmark-"

"Dude, no! I don't think that was even an option in the character creator! And I'll be damned if _you_ didn't blush when that happened, Alex!"

Alex averted his eyes, a guilty twist of the mouth as he studied the far wall intensely.

"Uh-huh, that's what I thought!"

Alex eyed the immersion room, "You can't see me from in there?"

"Oh, Alex, silly Alex. I don't need anything other than my intuition to know what you're doing."

"Stop being creepy."

Blaise whined her protest.

"Whatever, listen, I'll go make that spaghetti. You go do… whatever you're thinking of doing." Alex shook his head, rising from his seat.

"Well, it oughta be interesting. I mean, you saw that lovey-dovey shit that got pulled out of thin air earlier."

"Yeah. You gonna mess with the game's relationships mod? It looks like its got a few kinks."

"Well… yeah. I dunno. All I know is that it's screwy, and fun things happen when you mess with bugs."

"Don't break the game," Alex cautioned.

"I wooooon't."

"Don't get smacked upside the head. You're gonna have a concussion at this rate, even if it is virtual."

"Fuck you!"

"That's reassuring," Alex said, smiling as he pushed the green button again, turning off the mic.

His stomach growled. "Fuck, I know, cut it out."

_Beep_

Blaise sighed. Well, she was on her own now; time to see what she could cook up. What was she thinking about again?

"Wait." It hit her. She snapped her fingers.

"Skooma!"

She emitted a low chuckle.

"Anything is possible with skooma."


End file.
